Incarceration for Beginners
by LeStranged
Summary: When Draco and Hermione land themselves in the same prison cell it's a toss up between which one will throttle the other first. Dramione
1. Imprisonment

_A/N Warning: goofiness and fluff ahead._

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><p><strong>Incarceration for Beginners<strong>

Chapter 1: Imprisonment

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><p>Personally, Draco was of the opinion that the Ministry Holding Pen for in all Likelihood Guilty Criminal Criminals was really not that bad. Three times a day he had his meals bought to him (granted obviously the prison guards had not yet realised that most people preferred <em>food<em> at meal times rather than the congealed tar like substance they seemed to favour) and the orange jumpsuit he was wearing complimented his hair quite nicely (indeed the only annoyance he could find with the clothes provided was that he had had his underwear confiscated on arrival, and the material wasn't exactly the softest of affairs.)

Really, the only thing raining on what would otherwise probably be a quite pleasant incarceration was his cellmate, who had taken to alternating between letting out dramatic sighs and death threats.

"I am part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, how is this going to look on my record?"

Draco sighed. "Granger, please, a little deviation from the norm is character building."

Hermione let out a feral growl from where she was perched on her foam bunk.

"_Character building?" _she snarled at him. "We. Are. In. Prison. And might I add that it's all your fault."

"My fault?" Draco yawned. "Yes, I suppose I should accept some of the blame. Only a complete idiot would hire a lawyer whose greatest achievement is managing to land both her client and herself in prison."

Hermione groaned, and curled herself up in a tight ball of depression.

"Now, now Granger," Malfoy drawled, feeling a little bit sorry for her. "We're only here for ten days, there's every possibility that we won't be sentenced to Azkaban."

She let out an even louder groan, evidently doing her best impression of a banshee.

"I guess it won't be… _too _horrible."

It was offensive that her tone didn't match her words, he was hardly the worst company in the world, despite their predicament _he _hadn't threatened to decapitate her and he had even given her the comfier of the two beds.

"That's the spirit," he deadpanned. "Ten more days and you'll never have to see this cell or me again."

This seemed to cheer her up a little, she slowly uncurled herself and sat up to regard him with weary tear stained eyes.

"Of course, it's entirely possible that we'll simply be moved to a new cell in Azkaban with friendly murderers and rapists to mingle with as we please." Draco shrugged, unable to resist goading her. Quite frankly she only had herself to blame, if she was going to make her reactions so amusing.

Never one to disappoint expectations Hermione angrily lobbed her pillow at him.

"I'm going to kill you," she said, sweetly.

Draco snorted. "I wouldn't recommend it, I expect it would work against you at our hearing in ten days."

"Or push the hearing forward," she shrugged. "Either way I would have the cell to myself."

Draco put a mocking hand over his heart as if touched, but Hermione didn't seem to have noticed, as he didn't feel any other object collide with his head.

"Why am I here? I didn't do anything to deserve this; I've always, always followed the rules to the letter. And what do I have to show for it? I'm sharing a cell that smells like urine with debauched conman."

Debauched conman? It seemed Hermione had a flair for the dramatic.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Would you rather they have put the toilet elsewhere?"

Hermione simply scowled at him.

Draco just stretched.

"I'm sure that Shaklebolt will be back soon and clear this whole mess up," he said conversationally. "Need I remind you that neither of us actually did anything illegal."

"Yes, well that doesn't seem to have made much difference," she ground out bitterly.

It must be rather disheartening to experience first hand the major flaws in a system she had worked hard to ensure epitomised justice.

So, once again feeling sorry for her he said softly, "Well, look on the bright side."

"And what's that?" She demanded, hand on hip.

"Well… at least you won't have to walk far for the toilet in the night."

The look she gave him made Draco incredibly appreciative that their wands had been locked. Otherwise he would probably have found himself on the receiving end of a particularly nasty Reductor Curse. As it stood she simply got up and jammed the end of her wand into his leg before grabbing the pillow she had thrown at him and marching back to her bunk.

She made a show of facing the wall away from him.

Draco scowled at her dejected form, in no rush to engage in conversation with her any time soon. Let the miserable harpy seethe to herself in silence, at least he would be saved from a tongue lashing for a while.

He settled for gazing out of their barred window, rubbing his leg. Honestly, the woman had no sympathy for those who bruised like a peach.

These ten days were probably going to be the longest of his life.

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><p><em>Earlier that morning<em>

Hermione was up to her ears in paperwork. The ridiculous amount of bureaucracy and the unwillingness of the department to file away paper in anything resembling an organised manner was going to be the death or her. One day they'd wander in and find her dead body underneath ten tonnes of paper.

Or not. They'd probably leave the paper and her body to rot.

"Oh, Merlin's beard." She cursed as she found a piece of pizza filed between report 12DO7665 and what looked like somebodies grocery list.

"So this is the glamorous life that the heroes of Hogwarts lead? You must be the envy of the population."

Hermione dropped the mouldy bit of pizza she was holding in surprise. She would recognise that mocking, pretentious voice anywhere. Oh how easy it would be to just curse him and bury the body…

"I believe you have the wrong floor Malfoy," Hermione said, continuing to sort out the papers cluttering her desk in what she hoped was a nonchalant fashion. "The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes is the next level up, although I think you'll find that you're twenty years too late."

His silence to her remark disturbed her enough to cause her to stop fiddling with her desk and look up at him for the first time. He'd gotten taller, and his shoulders broader, but he was still as smartly dressed as ever, and on his face was a familiar smirk.

"My conception aside, would it be possible to have a word with you?"

Hermione regarded him. "No," she said curtly.

"Granger, I would really appreciate it if you could hear me out."

"Malfoy, that you defected from the Dark side just in the nick of time does not erase the six years of bullying you put me through," Hermione said tartly. "I think it better if we just lead our own separate lives."

His smirk simply widened. "Always so unflinchingly_ blunt_."

"Goodbye, Malfoy," she sighed.

"Granger, I apologise for my actions at Hogwarts," he said immediately.

Her eyes flicked up to his face. His smirk was gone and his eyes were fixed firmly on hers, he _looked_ sincere. But then he always had been a manipulative little-

"Just hear me out, and then if it pleases you, tell me to go and drown myself."

Hermione had to admit she was curious. What could Draco Malfoy possibly want from her? Of course that's what he would have been aiming for. He had always been good at reading people and would know that appealing to both her thirst for knowledge and her softer side was a sure fire way of getting what he wanted. But she was no longer the twelve year old girl who could be reduced to tears by his insults and words, she was now part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and fully capable of putting him in his place should she need to. After all a friendly catch up between two enemies wasn't complete without castration.

So, begrudgingly she granted him, "Five minutes."

He nodded his head. "Thank you."

With a flick of her wand the papers covering her desk disappeared for later sorting and Hermione plopped herself down in her chair before regarding Malfoy warily. He chose not to sit down, instead removing his coat and folding it over his arm.

She clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"You object to my removing my clothes?" He smirked, suggestively, goading her.

"I object to time wasting," she corrected. "You have just under five minutes of my time and it'd be a shame to waste a further two seconds cursing you if it turned out you'd simply come here to lord it over me."

His expression sobered a little, but his eyes still sparkled with amusement.

Prevaricating jerk.

"Two seconds? Yes I suppose that is all it would take for you. Let's get straight to the point then. It has been bought to my attention that a certain well respected figure has been using house elves as test subjects for experimental potions."

Hermione frowned. "But that would be in direct violation of-"

"Paragraph three, subsection four of the Granger Act for the Equality of Magical Creatures." Malfoy smiled at her look of surprise. "Don't look so shocked, Granger. I'm a business man, it's my job to know the law."

"Makes finding loopholes a lot easier does it?" Hermione snarked.

"Incrementally so," he agreed, unashamed.

"Well you want the front desk," Hermione told him. "You can file a case there-"

"Although I'm sure that _whatever_ I file will find it's way to the correct correspondent eventually." Malfoy's gaze shot down to the pizza Hermione had dropped. "I would prefer this to be resolved this decade."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Can't bare the thought of those poor house elves suffering?"

"It's… inhumane."

"And I suppose the discrediting of a rival business would be-"

"An entirely coincidental, yet welcome perk of my wish to see justice prevail," he finished, meeting her gaze levelly.

He was just trying to get her to do his dirty work. He'd always been smart, Hermione was under no illusion of this, she'd just never said so out loud, because when Malfoy was raised in conversation she could think of hundreds of adjectives she would use to describe him before intelligent. But here he was, knowing that if he just told her of the mistreatment of house-elves she wouldn't be able to turn a blind eye, that she _would_ help. And in return his potions business would get a happy little boost.

"You probably have a whole team of lawyers, Malfoy, why come here? Why come to _me_?"

For the first time he looked shocked at her question. "I thought it would be obvious, Granger."

"Obviously not," Hermione replied.

"I like having the best for my business. And who better to represent me than the very witch responsible for writing the law in question."

Hermione repeatedly tried to convince herself that the reason why she agreed to take on Malfoy's case was in fact because if she did refer him to another lawyer the case would get lost in bureaucracy for goodness knew how long, and she wasn't going to let innocent house-elves suffer in the process. The fact that Malfoy had called her the best was ego boosting but irrelevant.

"_Borage's Bubbling Cauldron?" _Hermione squeaked, regarding the destination they had just Apparated to in awe. "As in Libatius Borage's grandson?"

Malfoy smoothed out his coat. "The very same."

Borage's Bubbling Cauldron was _the _potions company. St Mungo's ordered all their antidotes from Borage's, Hermione herself had ploughed through several of the books written by the company, and their research centre was world renowned. Just last year they had managed to modify the Skele-Gro potion to taste like pumpkin juice instead of hippogriff puke.

"But they're huge investors in the Ministry," Hermione snarled angrily. "How could no one have known?"

Draco raised his eyebrows at her.

"Oh come of it," she snapped. "Of course nobody knows, in fact I don't even know if it's true yet."

Malfoy shook his head softly. "Just because _you _are incorruptible Granger, don't be blind to others greed. Money is a great motivator."

"You're speaking to someone heavily involved in the law Malfoy, don't patronise me, I am fully aware of what people will do for money."

"Don't be deliberately blind then," he countered, unfazed. "The Ministry was thoroughly corrupt, don't think that has changed in three years."

"Let's just go in shall we?" Hermione growled.

They walked through the large golden entrance, shaped like a cauldron, and straight to the front desk.

"Good morning," Hermione said politely to the witch on duty. "I'm Hermione Granger, Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I was wondering if I would be able to look at your testing centre?"

To Hermione's great surprise, the witch smiled before saying. "Of course, Borage's Bubbling Cauldron is always happy to accommodate Ministry personnel, you'll want the third floor, let me know if I can be of any more help."

"That was strange," Hermione whispered to Malfoy, as they crossed the atrium to the lifts. "In my experience it is usually the manager or company owner who is called to deal with legal representation, that a receptionist allowed us access to walk around the company? She didn't even ask for proof of identification."

"You do yourself a disservice," Malfoy muttered back. "You really are quite famous. But I agree it's very odd. Perhaps they don't think we'll find anything?"

"Maybe…"

But Malfoy couldn't have been more wrong, they had barely stepped out of the lift when they were confronted with the site of wizards and witches with clipboards feeding all manners of concoctions to willing house elves.

"And do you still have feeling in your right big toe?" asked the nearest wizard.

"Oh yes, sir!" squeaked the house-elf he was addressing, who despite having turned green and sprouted wings seemed perfectly happy to be of service.

"Good, good…" And the wizard began scribbling away on a clipboard.

"This is barbaric," spat Hermione.

Draco also looked disgusted, his eyes fixed on a house-elf cowering in the corner, writhing silently in pain.

They made their way further in, towards the centre of the room where a huge industrial sized cauldron sat.

"What do you think that potion is meant to do?" Hermione asked, leaning over the cauldron.

Draco's eyes widened. "That's- that's _my _potion."

"What?" squeaked Hermione in confusion. "They've stolen your potion?"

"It was a dud, didn't work properly, I can't see why they'd bother unless-"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed in understanding. "Hermione, let's go. Now."

She was too shocked to wonder at his using her first name, he'd obviously realised something she hadn't.

"But, why?"

She didn't have to wait long to find out. Within seconds of her uttering the words the doors to the lift pinged open and no less that ten Ministry wizards stepped out. They strode over to where Hermione and Malfoy stood.

"Draco Malfoy, you're under arrest for breaking-"

"-Paragraph three, subsection four of the Granger Act for the Equality of Magical Creatures?" Malfoy finished dryly.

The Ministry wizard seemed stumped for a moment. "Err… yes, exactly. So, we will have to request that you surrender your wand."

"What? No there's been a mistake," Hermione explained. "We've been set up, Malfoy isn't responsible for this-"

"Step aside please little girl, you're interfering with Ministry business."

Hermione froze. Little girl? Who did this absolute buffoon think he was?

"Little girl?" Hermione growled dangerously. "Little girl? I'll have you know that it was I who wrote the law you are accusing Mr Malfoy of breaking, and if you would stop for two seconds and actually think about the situation at hand you would realise that this is obviously a set up. Why would Mr Malfoy allow a rival potions company to test his potion for him? Of course that would give them the opportunity to try and do one on him. This is clearly the work of Borage's"

The Ministry wizard exchanged looks with his colleagues before nodding.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. Obviously they'd seen sense.

"You seem to know far to much of Mr Malfoy's plan not to be involved," the Ministry wizard said. "You're also under arrest for collaborating with the breaking of-"

""-Paragraph three, subsection four of the Granger Act for the Equality of Magical Creatures. You request that I surrender my wand. Got it." Hermione sighed. Really there was no arguing with such stupidity.

They were Apparated to the Minister of Magic's office.

"Why are you bringing us here?" Hermione asked. "This isn't proper procedure at all."

But no one acknowledged her. Hermione was at least comforted to realise that Kingsley Shacklebolt would soon see reason and send them on their merry way, hopefully turning a blind eye to what Hermione was going to do to the Ministry wizards who had bought them here when she got her wand back.

Only… Kingsley Shacklebolt was away on Ministry business, which unfortunately for Draco and Hermione meant the pleasure of deciding their fate lay with the Minister's council. Made up of those skilled enough to be there, and those with enough money to buy their way in. Borage happened to be on the council.

"Hermione Granger, due to your disregard for the law resulting in the mutating and colour changing of dozens of innocent house-elves, I am hereby sentencing you to the Ministry's Holding Pen for in all Likelihood Guilty Criminal Criminals. You will remain there for ten days, after which time you will attend a hearing where it will be decided if you should be moved to Azkaban prison."

Unfazed by Hermione's withering scowl, the old bat responsible for this serious miscarriage of justice continued. "Draco Malfoy, due to your disregard-"

"Snap, I got it." Malfoy replied, airily.

"And you understand the conditions of your arrest?" the same old man asked them

"Yes," said Malfoy politely. "We understand that our arrest is due to widespread corruption through out the Ministry, and a wish to continue the steady flow of money that _that man_." Malfoy pointed to Borage. "ensures falls into the Ministries highly incapable hands every month. We also understand that these conditions are completely fair, and not the result of bias or favouritism."

Hermione groaned and would have kicked him if she didn't think it would work against her.

The old man's eyes narrowed. "Your insolence does nothing to help your case."

"Yes, well I'm at a bit of a loss as to what will," Draco continued, his voice steady. "Innocence doesn't seem to have worked in our favour either."

He was clearly livid. Hermione knew enough of Draco to know that the angrier he got, the more eloquent he was.

"Malfoy," Hermione hissed in warning.

"What?" he questioned, never once taking his eyes off the council in front of him. "Are you saying I shouldn't tell the truth in a court of law? It's hardly my fault that this room demands that I not lie and tell the council that I think they're a bunch of bigoted old farts who emit an aura of idiocy."

"Take them away," the old man snarled.

Hermione bowed her head in despair as the guards made their way forward and took hold of her arms.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking Malfoy?"

"The council aren't all that powerful, Granger." He seemed to be taking their arrest extremely well. "As soon as the Minister gets back this mess will be cleared up and you can return to filing pizza in its correct place."

"We're going to prison," Hermione hissed.

"No, we're going to the holding area," he corrected. "We're only going to prison if we're found guilty at our hearing."

It was a good thing they were split up then because Hermione had never been closer to killing someone in her life. The guard responsible from her held onto her arm tightly and Apparated without warning, Hermione found herself in a dark dingy room with no doors but what looked suspiciously like a two way mirror.

He conjured up a foul, crusty orange piece of material.

He handed it to her expectantly.

"You expect me to wear this?" Hermione asked, appalled.

The man simply nodded.

"Has it even been washed since it's last owner used it?" She questioned, eyeing a particularly nasty stain by the crotch area.

Her guard shrugged. It was of no importance to him.

"Fine," she snapped. "Where do I get changed?" She looked around the plain room hopefully.

"Anywhere you like," her guard said, smiling for the first time.

Hermione paled. "Are you at least going to close your eyes?"

Her guard shook his head.

Angrily Hermione started pulling off her robes as quickly as possible. He wasn't going to get a good look at anything if she could help it. She began to step into the jumpsuit when the guard once again interjected.

"You'll need to take those off too."

Hermione felt herself go red, and angrily she pulled off her knickers and bra, throwing them at her feet.

"Pervert," she muttered.

Annoyed at the whole human race in general, Hermione stood with her arms folded, as once again her guard took her arm and they Apparated. This time into an area that looked significantly more like a Muggle Prison.

Here they bagged her belongings in plastic bags and returned her wand to her.

Hermione beamed.

"Don't get to excited. It's locked and for all intents and purposes useless."

The smile slide off of her face.

"Lucky for you, however, we only have one cell left. Looks like you'll be sharing with your friend," her guard continued.

Hermione groaned. "Are you sure there's not a spare bed in a cell with a murderer?"

"Well there is one other bed available."

Hermione brightened. "Where's that?"

"It's in a cell with a cannibal. I can make the arrangement if you'd prefer?"

And so, dejectedly, Hermione allowed herself to be led to her home for the next ten days, pointedly ignoring the crude requests the other prisoners shouted at her.

Malfoy was already there, slumped on his bed looking as if this was merely a slight inconvenience to him. Hermione wished she had his calm, she was two seconds away from punching someone, and then crying.

The guard gave her a light push into the cell, and with a wish that she have a "happy incarceration," he clanged the bars shut behind her and disappeared.

"Did they take your underwear as well?" Malfoy asked, sullenly.

"I- you-" Hermione spat angrily. "Leave me alone."

"Ahh come on Granger, think of this as a holiday you don't have to pay for. We even have a lovely view."

Hermione chanced a look outside, in any other situation she would have delighted at the soft countryside, complete with a lake and forest.

"What a horrible attempt at reminding us of all we're missing by being stuck in here," she sulked.

"And there was me thinking you were an optimist."

"We could be stuck in here for _years _Malfoy. And oh God, when my parents find out."

"We're unlikely to be stuck in here for years."

But Hermione didn't want to listen to reason. She wanted to have a good long wallow for a while, so she climbed upon the bed opposite Malfoy, faced the wall and curled her knees up to her chest.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

And he sounded it too.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. It really was going to be a long, long, ten days.


	2. Day One

**Incarceration for Beginners**

Chapter 2: Day One

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><p>To say that it had been the worst nights sleep of her life would be an understatement. When she wasn't being disturbed by Malfoy's incessant snoring, sleep was deprived from her by a far trickier annoyance. Hermione really needed to pee.<p>

When she had been camping with Harry and Ron all she'd had to do was unzip the tent and find a nice quiet tree to go about her business. In here, however, she was stuck, and she really didn't fancy going to the toilet in front of Malfoy. Considering her recent luck it seemed all too likely that the universe would ensure as soon as her bare bottom hovered above the toilet seat (there was no way she was allowing skin contact with that veritable inhabitation of disease) he'd suddenly wake up, and then she'd have to spend the whole ten days avoiding eye contact with him. She doubted the guards would take too kindly to a request to open the bars so she could relieve her bladder elsewhere. And in any case, even if they did agree, it would require her to walk past the inhabitants of the neighbouring cells, who had spent the whole night yelling some quite inventive obscenities about what they were going to do if a certain somebody didn't stop snoring.

It seemed even unconscious Malfoy made enemies.

So with the depressing prospect that any trip out of the cell would in all likelihood end in her asphyxiation, Hermione crossed her legs tightly and settled for picking at her foam mattress and trying to get the pieces to land in Malfoy's mouth.

The first rays of sunlight crept through the window of their cell before Malfoy finally had the decency to shut the hell up. Although Hermione would have aired her views in a much more… eloquent manner, her feelings were summed up by one of the other prisoners who snarled, "Thank fuck for that."

Hermione let herself flop back down on her bunk, hoping that now the human chainsaw beside her was quiet she'd be able to get some much needed sleep. Obviously that was asking for too much however, because just as she was drifting off she was interrupted by a loud clang on the bars, signalling breakfast.

"Score, cereal today!" Came the response from one of the neighbouring cells.

Hermione looked down at the 'food' they had been provided with.

She was forced to agree that it probably was cereal. Or more accurately _had _been, several years ago. Now however it simply looked like a fusion of grey mush. Hermione miserably poked at it with the spoon that was provided.

"Good nights sleep?" Malfoy stretched on his bunk, before hopping down to join her on the floor, shooting questioning looks at the chunks of foam that rolled off of him.

Hermione simply glared at him and went back to examining the concoction they'd been provided with. It seemed to have the consistency of polyjuice potion.

"What?" Malfoy asked, regarding his breakfast with the same displeasure.

"You. Snore," Hermione replied, bitterly.

"Really?"

"Oh come on, you _must _know this. You shared a room with other people for six years, surely someone complained, or punched you or something."

Malfoy regarded her steadily. "Well didn't someone wake up on the wrong side of the prison bunk?"

"Waking up only occurs if one goes to sleep first," she snarled, stomping over to her bunk and lying back down.

"Aren't you going to eat your breakfast?" Malfoy said, pleasantly.

"I don't think it's breakfast, I think it's antibacterial scrub provided to make this place decent for human inhabitation."

"Come on Granger, you'll be hungry by tonight if you turn your nose up at this stuff."

"I'm surprised _you _aren't turning your nose up at it, from what I remember of you, were you provided with anything but the finest you would sulk," Hermione said viciously.

Malfoy was silent for so long before replying Hermione was almost certain he was sulking, when suddenly-

"Compared to the prison I was in in Bulgaria this one's practically five star service," he said.

Hermione propped herself up. "You've been in prison before?"

"Twice," he replied, shovelling the grey goo into his mouth and turning slightly green.

"But why?"

"Oh, this and that," he said vaguely. "It's a given when you want to start your own business."

This was such faulty logic it was anger inducing, Hermione was about to challenge it and say that most people managed to start their own business with no run ins with the law, but she was interrupted by a prison guard opening their cell.

"You have an hour," he drawled in a bored voice. "Use the showers, exercise room, or the designated outside area, just make sure you play nicely with the other prisoners."

Malfoy pushed his bowl back and stood up. Hermione made to follow him but unceremoniously had the bars clanged back shut in her face.

"Hey!" She addressed the guard, outraged.

"You'll have to stay put," he told her. "Males only, you'll get your chance in an hour."

"Sexist," Hermione muttered.

Draco hung back. "You'll be alright here on your own?"

Hermione shot him a pointed look.

He smiled. "Of course you will be. Make sure you eat your breakfast."

He walked away, leaving her with the cell to herself. There was no way she was eating her breakfast gunge, maybe she'd tip in into the gutter outside their cell. But first things first – she really needed to relieve her bladder.

* * *

><p>Draco decided that he'd hit the showers. He undoubtedly needed a good scrub as he doubted the old, damn foam mattress had done anything for his aroma, unless the demographic he was trying to cater for were into young men that smelled like sick and urine. So he queued up with the other males, received his bar of soap and wasted no time in stripping off and choosing a shower.<p>

If there was one thing he'd learnt from being in prison twice before it was that you showered as quickly as possible and kept your eyes firmly on your own junk. So with impeccable discipline, Draco kept his eyes firmly fixed upon the tiled wall in front of him (which was only slightly depressing, as it seemed that the tiles had been grouted with green mould - he scrubbed himself considerably quicker after noticing this.) The soap wasn't the best smelling thing in the world, and in all likelihood he would probably leave the shower smelling worse than he had beforehand, which would give Hermione just another thing to complain about (he sighed thinking of the verbal thrashing he'd probably get when he returned to their cell.) But at least he had survived his first London prison shower without being gang raped. He was just about to finish up when he heard a shout.

"Hey you!"

Draco stayed facing the wall. He was in here with roughly fifty other (very naked and wet) men, the chances of the call being directed at him were incredibly slim.

"You're that new guy who kept everyone awake last night with your snoring."

Oh dear, Hermione had mentioned that he wasn't the quietest of sleepers…

He felt a wet hand grab his shoulder and was promptly spun around.

Draco wasn't afraid of physical contact. He was fairly tall and, thanks to his days of playing Slytherin Seeker, fairly well built, but the man stood in front of him was a whole different entity, and Draco couldn't help but feel like a pre pubescent teen who had stumbled into the studs changing room. It probably also didn't help that they were both naked.

"I'm sorry, can I help you with something?" Draco asked politely, subtly moving backwards. The result was his back ended up pressed against the mould-infested wall, but he decided that this was preferable to penis touching.

"Yeah you can as a matter of fact," he snapped. "Shut the fuck- hey wait, I _know_ you_._"

Draco narrowed his eyes. He didn't see where this man could know him from, _he _certainly didn't recognise the man at all and he'd always had a good memory for faces…

"You're that fucker Lucius' son, filthy little traitors the whole of your family," he snarled. "Left us here to rot didn't you." He thrust out his left arm, showing the faded but unmistakable remnants of a Dark Mark.

"You mean Drake Malfoy?" Draco asked.

"Yeah! So you're him?" The man stepped forward so Draco was now sandwiched between his body and the mouldy wall.

"It's possible," Draco shrugged.

"Probable, I'd say," said the man reasonably.

"Well if it's all the same to you I'd like to brush my hair before it dries, it goes all curly otherwise, so I'll speak to you later-"

Draco tried to sidestep round the ex Death Eater, and couldn't help but think he'd been rather unsuccessful when a fist collided with his face.

His last thought before losing consciousness was that there was definitely too much nudity involved in this story for him to retain any shred of dignity when Hermione found out how he found himself face down on the dirty shower floor.

* * *

><p>"… can't take you anywhere…"<p>

Draco regained consciousness slowly, his face on fire.

"…_idiocy_ at it's finest, picking fights with men twice your size…"

It was to be expected really. Even when he had been punched in the face Granger had nothing put contempt for him. Of course it was _his _faultthat he had been cornered whilst scrubbing his pits.

"… wouldn't be surprised if they held this against us in the hearing…"

"Granger, could you _please_ shut up," Draco groaned, groggily.

There was a brief pause, and had Draco had the wits to open his eyes he would have noticed the microsecond of relief etched on Hermione's face, but he simply lay there with his eyes closed hoping that someone had at least dressed him before dumping his back in the cell. And that he hadn't snored whilst he was out cold.

"No, I will not shut up," she squawked.

Her tone was countered when she gently pressed something cool against his right eye. He sighed in relief.

"That feels good," he moaned in relief.

He opened his left eye in time to catch her blush.

"Yes. Well, don't expect this every time you do something to annoy someone, I don't have use of my want and there's only limited material on his thing."

She held up her left leg to show where she'd ripped off part of her orange jumpsuit. That explained the cool pad pressed against his eye.

"Granger, you pitch it as an inevitability that I'll rub someone else up the wrong way." He sighed, trying hard not to think that if he did get injured again maybe she'd rip a more substantial part of her prison uniform off, perhaps higher up the leg…

It was more likely she'd leave him to rot.

"It _is _an inevitability."

"So mean," he murmured. Moving the wet material off of his eye and poking it experimentally. By the feel of it, Draco was prepared to bet he had a pretty impressive black eye.

"Stop it," Hermione scolded, swatting his hand away from his face and walking over to the small faucet next to the toilet to rewet his rag. "So how did it happen?"

"Jealousy," Draco said seriously, closing his eyes again. "My clear complexion and soft hair angered the other inmates."

He heard her snort.

"No, the real reason," she said, sweetly.

He sat up and leant against the wall, pleased to find someone had indeed taken the trouble to dress him. "I ran into an old Death Eater pall." He decided to leave the snoring complaint out of it, he couldn't deal with concussion as well as an 'I told you so' speech.

Hermione regarded him with a hand on her hip. "I'm taking it he had issue with your change of heart?"

"He wasn't thrilled about it, no."

"Who was he?"

"Not a clue," Draco replied truthfully, "but he recognised me."

"By your Dark Mark?"

"I doubt it," Draco said.

Hermione cocked her head in question.

Draco sighed, and in answer pulled up the sleeve on his left arm. Hermione gasped, and drew closer.

"You _burnt _it off." She scolded, moving a finger towards the puckered flesh as if to touch it. "You could have taken your whole arm off."

"I knew what I was doing," he assured her, unconcerned.

His speaking seemed to snap her back into herself, and she subtly dropped her hand back down to her side.

"What was it like?" she questioned in a small voice.

He didn't ask for clarification because he already knew what she was inquiring about

Draco sighed. "Difficult."

Hermione regarded him with intelligent eyes, eyes that were burning to know more. But it seemed she'd read something in his face that told her he really didn't want to talk about it, because she changed the subject. For which he was grateful; because she was one of the people who deserved answers to the questions she was burning to ask, and Draco was reluctant to give answers.

"Your ineptitude in regards to fighting cost me my hour out of this cell," she grunted, moving back to her own bunk.

"How do you know I didn't take out fifty of them before succumbing to the physical exertion, falling over and hitting my eye on the way down?"

She quirked an eyebrow, "Did that happen?"

"Sure," he replied, putting his hands behind his head. He seemed to recall falling over, albeit after his eye was hit.

Hermione simply rolled her eyes.

They sat in silence for a long time until Draco rolled over and was rewarded with a particularly nasty squelch. He sat up and pulled the paper thin duvet off of his bunk and was greeted with what looked like-

"Granger?" He questioned, noticing that she seemed to be examining her big toe a little too intensely to be entirely oblivious. "How did your breakfast end up in my bed?"

She seemed to be temporarily deaf as well.

* * *

><p>Hermione was bored, and for the umpteenth time wished she had a book. If she just had something to read then she was sure she would be able to last longer then ten days in this hovel, but the only entertainment came in staring at a wall, and it was beginning to grate on her.<p>

Even more annoying was the fact that the lack of things to do didn't seem to be bothering Draco in the slightest. He was quite content to just lie there and gaze out of the window.

Hermione had never been good at being idle. She was a do-er, and the distinct lack of anything to do was the biggest punishment that could be heaped on her. She had so much work, so many important cases to get back to, yet her biggest achievement of the day so far had been not punching Draco in the other eye whilst he had been unconscious. He definitely would have deserved it. That he was being pleasant confused her. Yes, she could see how growing up in an environment in which you were taught you were superior to everyone else undoubtedly accounted for a large part of his abuse of her whilst they were at school, but that didn't mean Hermione was ready to forget his vindictive and manipulative nature. Even if he was one of the few intelligent enough to keep up with the banter they shared.

Hermione was compassionate, and forgiving, but she was not stupid, and she knew that the man sitting across from her wasn't her friend and never would be. He had probably just reasoned that their incarceration would pass more smoothly if they didn't try to throttle each other. They just had to get through ten days and then they would never see each other again.

"I'm bored," Hermione reminded him for the fifth time.

"God Granger, you're not six, count how many bricks are in the cell or something."

"If I'm not six don't give me activities designed for six year olds," she countered.

He just ignored her and went back to gazing out of the window. And in penance for not indulging her she didn't tell him that there were one thousand, two hundred and seventy six bricks in there cell. She couldn't help but feel this was a rather feeble punishment.

And so they slipped back into another period of silence in which Hermione pointedly picked at bits of foam from her mattress and threw them at Malfoy, who seemed determined not to rise to the bait, and so just as pointedly ignored her.

Hermione sighed and picked up her wand. She'd read up on locking spells of course, they sealed the flow of magic by containing the core, effectively ensuring that a wizard or witches power could not be channelled through them. She gave it an experimental flick, disappointed to realise that the toilet she had been trying perfume smelled just as bad as ever.

She tried a few more simple spells (in the hope that the wand had been sealed faultily and a small amount of magic could be leaked through) with as much luck as her first attempt before setting the wand down in frustration.

There was of course always wandless magic – Hermione had only succeeded in casting a very weak charm, once, without the aid of her wand. It required incredible concentration, skill and above all practise. Incarceration provided the perfect opportunity to hone all three.

Hermione closed her eyes and levelled her breathing, concentrating on clearing her mind and capturing the sensations felt when she had performed magic in the past. Just as she had reached her semi-meditative state she felt a hand enclose around her leg.

"Don't even think about it," Malfoy snapped, his tone more the familiar sneer she was used to.

Hermione jerked away in shock and anger. "What are you doing?"

"You were about to try and perform wandless magic. God Granger, don't be so stupid."

"The ability to use wandless magic is the complete opposite of stupid, Malfoy," she seethed, irritated by his anger.

"They've put up security measures against that type of thing," he continued, not at all flustered by her scowl. "It wouldn't end well for you – they can't afford to be lenient with wizards or witches who are powerful enough to master a skill like that."

"And how do you know that?" she replied primly.

The security measures installed in wizarding prisons such as this one were carefully guarded secrets, secrets that not even Hermione knew. It wouldn't do to have that sort of knowledge fall into the wrong hands, it was how break outs occurred.

"Because you have it drilled into you when you work for the bad guys," Malfoy snarled, evidently unwilling to continue with the line this conversation was taking.

Something in her face must have betrayed her emotions because Malfoy sagged and continued in a much softer tone.

"Just promise me you won't try it again."

He stalked back to his bunk and flopped back down again. Annoyed, Hermione turned so she was facing the wall.

She was angry. With herself more than anything, because as much as it pained her to admit it, she had been hurt by the angry tone Malfoy had adopted. And that was just silly, because really the hateful sneering voice that was designed to hurt her had been the only voice she'd ever known from him before yesterday. That she'd expected things to be different, that she'd expected leniency, was ridiculous. He'd sought her out and had been polite to her because he needed something. Now that she'd outlived her usefulness there was little point in carrying on the charade that he saw her as anything but a muggle-born.

And despite knowing all this was the likely explanation, still a mutinous thought in the back of her head argued that his anger was simply because he'd been worried about her.

And thoughts like that just wouldn't do.

So Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and decided that sleep would be the best remedy to her quickly sinking mood.

Once again she was awoken too soon, and once again it was by a meal delivery. This one, however, was accompanied by an argument.

"There'll be no arguing, you'll eat what you're given or you won't eat at all."

"What the hell is it I've been given?" bellowed one of the prisoners.

This seemed to flummox the guard. "Well it's obviously… looks to me like… it's full of all your vitamins and someone else has counted the calories for you, just be thankful we're not leaving you here to starve."

Hermione jumped up and craned her neck through the bars.

"Dean? Dean Thomas is that you?" she cried, delighted for a familiar face.

"Hermione Granger?" Dean dragged the food trolley over to her, ignoring the protests from other prisoners at being missed out. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"It's a long story," she rushed. "Listen, is there any way that you could get us out of here?"

She watched him glance over to her cellmate at the word 'us.'

"Wait, is that _Draco Malfoy?_" Dean gaped.

Malfoy merely raised a hand in greeting.

"Yes," Hermione said dismissively. "So is there any chance you could get us out."

"Sorry, can't do that, it's my job to keep you in here. If it's any consolation, if I could, I'd get you out. Not him though."

Malfoy looked like he couldn't care less.

"Is there anything you can do?" Hermione pressed, desperately. "Get us actual food? Or a book, or _something_"

Dean brightened. "Oh yeah, I'm sure I could get you a few items snuck in here, it's really only for good behaviour but I'm sure you won't be causing any trouble."

"Of course not," Hermione trilled, hoping that he wouldn't see Malfoy's black eye. She placed her orders happily.

"Is there anything you want?" she snapped at Malfoy.

"I'm not getting anything for him," Dean clarified, scowling. "I haven't forgotten how he imprisoned me in his manor."

Draco's deadpan expression remained on his face.

"And you shouldn't forget how while I was imprisoned in his manor with your friends, you were tortured."

Hermione was certain she saw a flash of rage taint Malfoy's featured, but it was gone in the blink of an eye and he merely shrugged before saying.

"These things happen," Malfoy said.

Before Dean could reply, Hermione intervened.

"Dean I really, really appreciate this. I promise we're innocent and that I'll make it up to you once we get out of here."

He smiled at her, "Anytime. Well I best be getting on, here's your evening… sludge."

He slid through two bowls of what looked like an even mouldier version of breakfast, before leaning in and whispering.

"And you can have this if you promise not to share with _him._"

He pressed an apple into her hand, and Hermione could have kissed him.

"Thanks again, Dean!"

She stalked back to her bunk cradling the apple, she knew that despite what Dean had said she would be sharing the apple with Malfoy, albeit after she'd spat on his part.

"'These things happen'?" she scowled. "You don't ingratiate yourself at all you know."

"It isn't my aim to ingratiate myself to those who are unwilling to listen," he replied evenly. "He would be much happy to carry on with his existence blaming me and too blinded by old prejudices to even consider listening to my apologies."

"Because Merlin knows you were never blinded by old prejudices." Hermione snapped.

"Yes Granger, the key word being _were, _as in in the past."

"You can't expect him to just forget you and your family locked him up, Malfoy."

"I don't expect him to forget," he replied. "People find it much easier to forget the good in people they dislike than the bad."

Hermione didn't reply. She had no doubt he was referring to the fact that he, knowing he would face severe consequences in doing so, had refused to identify Harry, Ron and herself. But, like Dean, she didn't want to hear his reasons; she wanted to continue blaming him. She wanted him to be the same petty, despicable human being she'd known in Hogwarts.

So she spent the rest of the night ignoring him, and when she noticed he'd fallen asleep (she thought she would have heard it before seeing it) she turned his bowl of sludge upside down and placed the uneaten half of the apple on it.

She fell asleep convincing herself that this was simply because she would feel guilty if she ate the whole thing, and not because she didn't want him to go hungry.


End file.
